THE MILLER ORDER
by IneffableDreams
Summary: Two years ago Michael Sandrelli was mercilessly gunned down at point-blank range, leaving his team to bury yet another one of their own. Or so they thought. Anna Vargas has a secret, and it's time to come clean about what really happened two years ago. He's alive. Tag to the series finale.
1. Chapter 1

**THE MILLER ORDER  
** Tag to the series finale

* * *

 **SYNOPSIS**

It's been two years since Melbourne was threatened with a nuclear bomb. Scratch that. Two nuclear bombs. Two years since those left in the Rainey family were taken down by the Cicero task force for their drug business, including Liam Rainey who initially had immunity. Two years since Yuri Gringko was taken down and the rest of the Russian mafia fled Melbourne. And two years since Senior Constable Michael Sandrelli was mercilessly gunned down at point-blank range.

The Cicero task force was disbanded and Senior Sergeant Charlie Lewis moved on from Tactical Response, re-establishing Senior Sergeant Lawson Blake as team leader.

Kerry Vincent was demoted to her former position as Inspector and assigned back to Tactical Response full time.

After disabling the first nuclear bomb, Sergeant Brendan "Josh" Joshua disappeared for a few days. He'd left his tactical gear at the bomb site after telling Lawson, who'd slept with his girlfriend, "We're done." It was Senior Constable Stella D'Agastino who convinced Josh to come back to the city and to the team.

Stella got better as time went on. The wounds caused from losing Michael still throbbed and ached whenever she bumped them, but she was getting better.

Leon managed to hold onto his job as Tactical Response's head intelligence officer, but Kerry hired him an apprentice to keep him in a constant state of professionalism.

The bad guys did their thing and the good guys did their thing. It took a few months but eventually TR were back on the streets responding to high priority calls and drinking bad coffee.

All was right in the world again.

Almost.

 **PROLOGUE**

 _October 5th, 2011_

 _The sun was almost completely set on another warm spring day in Melbourne. Victorian Police Commissioner Anna Vargas had decided to take a personal call outside the exhibition centre in an attempt to catch the last few drops of heat from the sun. As the sun burned its last rays for the day, Vargas glanced to her right and saw Senior Sergeant Charlie Lewis approach her. He'd changed out of his uniform but still wore the façade of authority. Vargas quickly ended her call and watched as Charlie got closer. He grinned at her as he closed the last few feet._

 _"You've come to threaten me for something else?" Vargas asked, sourly._

 _Charlie shook his head and came to a stop. "No," he told her, and shoved his hands into his pockets. "I've just come to talk."_

 _Vargas suddenly remembered how wrong things had gone the previous morning. "How's Sandrelli?"_

 _"He's in surgery," Charlie informed, and gestured lazily to his head. "They're getting the bullet from his head."_

 _Vargas nodded and tapped her phone in her palm. "That's good news, then," she said and started to walk the few meters back to the door she'd escaped the building from._

 _"Good news is often short lived," Charlie protested and followed alongside. "Even if Sandrelli survives, he'll still have a target on his back. You know what these guys are capable of. We've seen it before."_

 _Charlie spoke seriously; drawing Vargas' mind back to an assault on an officer a few months earlier that had left the young officer fighting for his life. He'd survived the attack, only to be fatally gunned down outside the hospital the day of his discharge._

 _Vargas exhaled. "So what do you want to do? Organize around-the-clock protection?"_

 _"Maybe," Charlie said, but that wasn't what he wanted. "Or you could let me debrief Lawson and the rest of his team on what they're really up against."_

 _Vargas shook her head and glanced over her should at Charlie. "They're a smart team, they'll figure it out themselves. Probably sooner than you think."_

 _"Anna…"_

 _Vargas stopped and turned around. "If you told them you'd known about a partnership between the Rainey's and the Russian Mafia for months, you'd lose their trust."_

 _"I don't have their trust to lose!" Charlie threw back without missing a beat._

 _Vargas continued walking. "I can't allow it," she said. "We employed Lawson and his team for their foot work. There's a bigger picture here, Charlie, you know that. Your job going in was to keep Tactical Response focused on the smaller one until it was time. It's not time yet."_

 _Charlie shook his head. "The situations changed." He reached for Vargas' arm and turned her around to him. "Take the task force out of it for the moment. This is a kid we're talking about," he said firmly. "A kid whose team would do anything to protect him. A kid whose life you're gambling."_

 _Vargas looked away and considered a solution. "Alright," she said, after a moment, and looked back to Charlie. "Go back to the hospital, talk to Sandrelli's doctor. If there's a chance he'll pull through, I'm giving you permission to conduct a Miller Order."_

 _Charlie let go of Vargas' arm and chuckled in disbelief. He took a step back and put his hands on his hips. "That's your solution?" He asked. "Pseudocide?"_

 _"It's two birds with one stone," Vargas explained; waving her hand beside her. "It's protection for Sandrelli without extensive man power, and it's a way to keep Tactical Response on the job."_

 _"Motivate them by grief," Charlie stated and shook his head. "I mean, I'm assuming they can't know?"_

 _Vargas walked to the glass door in front of her where an officer in uniform stood; keeping watch over Vargas. "It's the best I can offer," she called back._

 _When she was gone, Charlie turned on his heels and pressed his lips. He'd been keeping a list of secrets from the rest of the team, but keeping this one would be the hardest._

* * *

 **ONE**

Stella walked into the locker room carrying her uniform in hand and her towel rested over her shoulder. Shannon and Christian were talking against their lockers, and Josh sat on the island bench in the middle of the room, looking at his phone. Stella tossed her towel on top of her locker then retrieved her red backpack and dumped it next to Josh.

She began folding her uniform and shoving it into her backpack. "Who's got your attention?" She asked and smiled at Josh when he glanced at her.

Josh shook his head. "No one. Just reading emails."

"You finally work out how to use that thing?" Stella teased; gesturing to Josh's iPhone.

Josh chuckled and stood up; locking his phone and slipping it into his pocket. "You have been a little shit all day," he said and lightly punched Stella's arm.

Stella laughed and swung her bag onto her back. "Hey, who's up for a drink?" She asked the room.

Before anyone could answer, Lawson bounced into the room from the office entrance.

"Wait on, wait on," he said hurriedly. He stood at the top of the room and made sure he had everyone's attention before continuing. "Sorry about this but we've been called into head office."

"What for?" Shannon asked, suspiciously.

Lawson shrugged a little and shook his head. "I don't know," he confessed. "Vargas just called Kerry and said she needed to speak to all of us now, so…"

"What, all of us?" Stella asked, equally as suspicious.

"Yeah," Lawson nodded. He waved his hand, "Look, quicker we get there, quicker we get it over with."

The team nodded unenthusiastically and piled out to the two TR cars parked in the garage.

When they reached head office, a junior constable was waiting for them inside the main lobby. He escorted the team up to Vargas' office.

"Nice," Kerry admired as the team scattered themselves around the newly renovated office.

It had a dark, polished pine wood desk at the head of the room sitting in front of a wall of book shelves. There were two leather chairs in front of the desk and a tall black desk chair behind it. A round conference table at the other end of the room could hold 8 people at full capacity, and the couch along the far wall provided extra seating space. Some framed photos of police working patrol hung on the walls as well as framed certificates of Vargas' accomplishments in the force.

The team took interest in the framed ornaments the most, then Josh made his way to the windows overlooking the city. Kerry stood by the conference table and Lawson stood somewhere in the middle of the room.

The constable who had escorted the team to Vargas' office stayed by the door until she arrived.

"Sorry to keep you waiting," Vargas said as she entered the room and dismissed the constable. She walked straight to her desk and put down a black zip folder she'd been carrying. She gestured to the conference table at the opposite end of the room. "Let's have a seat, shall we?"

Lawson and Kerry sat closest to Vargas, as if subconsciously creating a wave of highest rank to lowest. Shannon and Christian sat behind them and Josh and Stella sat at the bottom of the table. Once everyone was settled, Vargas folded her arms over the table and got straight to business.

"I won't keep you for very long," she started, "there's just something you, as a team, have a right to know about." She took a moment; knowing very well her news was going to be hard for them to hear. "I'm sure you're all still very familiar with your involvement with the take down of the Rainey family drug business two years ago?"

The team stiffened at the memory.

"We lost one of our own in that take down," Lawson said coldly. "Kind of hard to forget."

Vargas nodded once at him and faced her palms up. "That's why you're here," she told him and looked back to the rest of the team. "What I am about to tell you may be hard for you hear, to understand, to comprehend. You'll have questions and I'll do my best to answer them…" She paused; questioning the best way to break the news "…Michael Sandrelli is alive. He survived."

"What?" Stella was the first to say anything, with her heart suddenly in her throat.

"Hang on, what do you…" Lawson trailed off. "How?"

Vargas nodded again and took a deep breath. "It's called a Miller Order," she explained. "It's when the police force commits pseudocide on the behalf of an individual to protect them. Sandrelli had a target on his back and had his survival been made public, he would never have been safe."

"Why didn't we know about this?" Josh asked; echoing the question on all their minds.

"It was my decision not to involve you," Vargas answered confidentially. "The less people who knew what was going on the more chance the Order had a likely hood of being successful, and it was. It was successful, Sandrelli Is ok."

The room fell silent. Everyone taking the moment to comprehend the information. A clock perched on a nearby wall ticked away at the seconds. Vargas watched them all carefully; trying to establish their reactions.

"Can we see him?" Shannon asked; echoing another question on everyone's mind.

Vargas looked at her wrist watch. "He's on a plane right now, flying in from Sydney. He was transferred to a Sydney hospital a week after the shooting. He's been recovering there since."

Another moment of silent fell among the table. The team now exchanged glances with each other, exchanging looks of confusion and suspicion.

Stella straightened up in her seat. "Do you know if he did… recover?"

Josh instinctively rubbed Stella's back when he heard the tremor in her voice. He leaned his free elbow on the table and rubbed his forehead. The experience of losing Michael flooded back to his mind. He blamed himself for Michael's death, and while Stella had eventually come around and told Josh it wasn't his fault, he'd never stop blaming himself. But Stella had suffered the worst. Michael had been her best friend, if not something more. Stella's response to losing Michael had seen her suffer each wave of grief in its most intensity.

"I'm told he's made an exceptional recovery," Vargas reassured. "Beyond what the doctors could have hoped for."

Stella nodded and the room fell silent again. Josh leaned back in his chair and shook his head. Christian clasped his hands together on the table in front of him and exhaled. Shannon folded her arms and fell back in her chair as well. Whereas Lawson and Kerry engaged in a silent conversation across the table.

With a nod from Lawson, Kerry placed her hands on the arms of her chair and looked to Vargas. "You said Michael's on a plane?"

Vargas nodded. "I've arranged a car to pick him up."

"No, that won't be necessary," Lawson chimed in and nodded to the team.

The team stood in unison and grouped together as they followed Lawson out to the hallway. Kerry had been on the tail of the group but stayed behind to catch a private word with Vargas; who had begun making her way to her desk. Kerry caught her attention and nodded towards the hallway.

"Those guys are never going to trust you again," Kerry stated. "You realize that, don't you?"

Vargas glanced to her office door where the team had disappeared through. "I did what was necessary to protect Sandrelli."

"So lying to everyone in Michael's life was necessary to protect him, was it?"

"If I thought you could have made a difference, I would have brought you in." Vargas said sincerely.

There was a brief moment of silence between them, until Kerry chuckled and shook her head.

The drive to the airport had been silent among both cars. Christian stared out his window in the backseat, while Josh kept glancing to Stella on the passenger side. The positions were mimicked in the TR 1, with Shannon starring out her window in the back seat, Lawson driving, and Kerry as the passenger. No one said a word. Their minds were revisiting the scene of the shooting, reviving Michael on the pier, praying over his hospital bed, saying goodbye, the funeral, the wake, and the painful weeks that followed.

They parked in the emergency vehicle rank outside the domestic terminal at Tullamarine airport. They grouped outside the cars and exchanged anxious looks with each other.

Inside, the team positioned themselves in a loose group at baggage collection. A set of sliding doors in front of them would be Michael's way out of the airport and each time the doors slid open, the team held their breath.

Christian had run up a flight directory hanging from the ceiling a few feet away from them. "Hey, there's a flight from Sydney that landed two minutes ago," he reported as he re-joined the group.

They anxiously waited for another few minutes until, finally, the wait was over. The team felt their stomachs drop then rise as the doors slid open once again and out walked a familiar tall man with dark hair and bright green eyes.

Michael.

He wore a white shirt under a black jacket, black worn jeans, and a dark blue beanie that pushed his dark hair against his forehead, and carried a black leather duffle bag by his side. Michael saw his team standing a few meters in front of him and smiled. They all starred at him wide-eyed, with mixed expressions of confusion and relief. He smiled sympathetically, one Lawson returned.

Stella stood a few feet ahead of everyone else, and as Michael walked closer towards them, she cautiously walked closer to him.

The closer he got to Stella, the more Michael he could feel his chest and throat tighten. "Hey," he said when there was only a couple feet between them. He tried to smile at her but couldn't help suddenly feeling overwhelmed.

Stella's heart pounded anxiously in her chest. She could feel her hands shaking and her with each breath, she felt her mind reprocess reality. "Hey," Stella replied, softly, fearing anything louder would see her voice break.

They stared at each other for what felt like hours. Each silently questioning if the experience was real.

Michael took a sluggish step forward and shook his head slightly. "I'm so sorry," he exhaled; feeling the overwhelming emotions burn under his skin.

Stella closed the last few inches of space between them and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. Michael immediately returned the action by wrapping his free arm around her; holding Stella tight against him. Deciding it wasn't enough, Michael dropped his bag on the ground beside him and wrapped his other arm around her, too. They both closed their eyes and buried their faces against the other's shoulder.


	2. Chapter 2

**II**

The emotional reunion at Tullamarine airport hadn't ceased beyond Stella and Michael's embrace. The team welcomed Michael back into their lives with hugs and tears. Being reunited with someone they believed to have died two years ago was not something anyone was going to completely comprehend anytime soon. They'd left the airport sometime later and returned to base where a reunion with Leon awaited Michael. And just like the airport, it'd been emotional.

"A drink," Christian exclaimed as he returned from the fridge with two bottles of Heineken beer in his hands. He stood next to Michael; drawing his attention upward. "For my brother," he continued and handed Michael one of the beers. "A real life miracle if I ever knew one."

Michael chuckled and smiled sheepishly as accepted the beer. "Thanks, mate."

Christian took the moment to gently pat Michael's shoulder before returning to his seat in between Josh and Shannon.

Michael placed the beer down on the table in front of him and pushed the empty remains of his first drink further up the table. He ran his thumb up and down the neck of the bottle then looked up at the team. They'd occupied the kitchen area at the opposite end of the garage. After Michael and Leon's reunion, Josh had announced he could use a drink. Or ten. There'd been a slab of beer left in the bottom of the fridge by Josh. Technically they weren't allowed to have alcohol on the premises, but Josh couldn't remember a time anyone had actually obeyed that rule. They sat around the table and continued their reunion. Josh and Stella sat on either side of Michael. Lawson sat directly across with Shannon and Kerry beside him. And Leon beside Stella.

"So, you guys had no idea?" Michael asked; still struggling to wrap his head around the idea that the people who sat in front of him had spent the last two years believing he was dead.

"None," Lawson answered; shaking his head. "We were kept in the dark for God knows why."

"I doubt even He knows," Shannon remarked and took a swig.

Michael shook his head and stared blankly at the center of the table. "It's so messed up," he said softly.

"It's bullshit." Josh stated, then grabbed Michael's shoulder and gently swayed him once. "But you're back now and you're ok, so that's all that matters," he said sincerely.

Michael grinned and nodded as Josh patted his shoulder reassuringly.

"And you look good, so…" Christian added cheerfully. He gestured the neck of his beer towards Michael. "Really, that's all that's important."

Michael chuckled and shook his head. He'd missed Christian's antics and persistence to always try and lighten the mood of the room.

"So, Michael," Kerry chimed in and quickly extended a hand lazily in front of her, "and tell me to bugger off if this isn't something you want to talk about, but are you ok?" She asked sympathetically. "Because Christian's right, you do look good. You seem ok. I'm just wondering…" she turned her palms up over the table. "You know, are you?"

Michael instantly sat up straight and rubbed his forehead. "Yeah," he replied enthusiastically. He rested his arms on the table and nodded; he'd been waiting for this question. "Yeah, I'm good. I'm told I beat the odds," he said; smiling. "Even with…" he gestured to his forehead which was still covered by his beanie. "They reckon had the bullet been a millimeter in any direction it would've been a different story, but…" he shrugged, "Nah, I'm good."

Christian snapped his fingers and pointed at Michael. "Miracle. What did I tell you?"

"Yeah," Lawson exhaled; nodding. "Bloody hell."

Michael adjusted himself in his seat. "So, what have I missed? Catch me up."

The team took turns dobbing each other in for their accomplishments. Lawson bragged about Shannon's brief return to Special Ops. Josh elaborated on the team's successful take down of a notoriously violent bikey gang in Yarraville; suggesting Michael would have loved it. Leon brought attention to Christian's promotion to Senior Constable and Stella's promotion to Leading Senior Constable.

"Ooh, so you're my superior now, huh?" Michael teased.

"Yep," Stella straightened up and grinned at him. "So if you come back to us you better be prepared to obey my orders."

Michael laughed and nodded; saying he was completely ok with that. Stella took the opportunity to dob Josh in for jumping a suspect and surprising him so much the guy actually peed himself.

It was another hour until people started to leave. Christian was the first to go as the time hit 10:00 PM. He expressed his desire to stay longer but knew he had to get home to his family. He hugged Michael goodbye and reiterated his joy to have him back then told the team he'd see them tomorrow. Kerry was next, then Leon. As the population got smaller so did the gaps between everyone. Some more time passed until the remainder of the group collectively decided it was time for everyone to go home.

They parted by the parking lot, which was a strip of parking bays on the main road outside the base that faced the neighboring park.

"You heading to your folks or do you need somewhere to crash?" Josh asked Michael when the group got to the cars.

"Nah, I'm…" he glanced behind him where Stella was walking to the driver's side of her car. "…crashing at Stell's."

Josh nodded; thinking he probably could have guessed. "Alright." He stepped forward and slapped Michael's shoulder and pulled him close for a final hug. "It's good to have you back, muppet," he said as he held Michael against him.

Michael chuckled as they pulled away. Truthfully, he never liked the pet name Josh dubbed him with the first week he was on the squad. It originated from Michael's rookie keenness to impress the Sergeants of the squad. Being the youngest on the team and fresh out of the Academy, he'd wanted to make a good impression and show the team he was capable of doing whatever they needed him to, but Josh had immediately seen it as Michael attaching his own strings to Lawson's marionette bar. Thus the pet name: Muppet. The original use of the word had lost meaning as Michael grew as a police officer and developed more independence and confidence in himself, but by then it was too late. The name stuck.

But hearing the pet name in use again tonight, Michael welcomed it.

"I'll see you," Josh said with a wink and gave Michael's shoulder a final friendly pat.

Michael smiled. "Yeah," he reassured.

When Michael had stayed at Stella's place in the past, he'd always put his stuff in the same place every time: in-between the bedside table and a display shelf. When he walked into the apartment then, instincts kicked in and he automatically proceeded to set his duffle bag in the same place. He smiled at the sight of the apartment; seeing nothing much had changed from how he remembered it.

Stella dropped her car keys beside her landline and turned to Michael. "Are you hungry?" She asked, and gestured to the kitchen behind her, "I could make you something?"

Michael smiled, "I'm ok, thanks."

Stella nodded and slid her hands into her back jean pockets. She watched as Michael looked around the apartment. Then suddenly something caught his eye on the display shelf. He leaned forward to examine the object of his curiosity closer then lifted a printed picture out of one of the shelves. He flipped it around to show Stella.

"I remember this," Michael boasted. He flipped the photo back to him and chuckled. "This was the first night we got pissed together."

Stella smiled boldly. "Yeah." She suddenly groaned at the memory and bent her knees as she threw her head back. She straightened back up a moment later and walked around the couch in front of her. "We got _so_ smashed. And remember we stayed out so late we decided not to go home so we went to work four hours early?"

Michael chuckled and nodded. He waved the photo back and forth in his hand and lazily made his way to the couch where Stella was sitting on her knees with her elbow bent over the back of the couch and her hand resting on top of her head.

"Lawson was so shitty with us for sleeping in the locker room," Michael added. "I have no idea how we were even sober enough to work the next day. But this," he waved the photo again before dropping it on the coffee table in front of them, "was the start of a beautiful friendship."

Stella laughed. "Yeah, it was," she said and bit her bottom lip. She pointed to Michael's beanie as he sat down beside her. "So, what's up with the hat?"

Michael hesitated a moment, then pulled the beanie off his head and moved his hair across his forehead. A discoloured line of skin below the hairline on the right side of Michael's forehead was the only physical evidence left of the bullet that entered his brain. It was about an inch long and only a few millimetres in width, but still noticeably visible.

Stella scrunched her face. "It's not bad," she reassured him.

"Yeah, yeah, I know," Michael scrunched the beanie in his hands. "I just thought I'd cover it up because…" he trailed off, shrugged, and chuckled.

Stella chuckled with him then gestured to the side of her chest. "What about…?"

"Yep, there too," Michael patted over his right breast where he'd been shot. They fell silent, and Michael could see Stella looking him up and down. He could only imagine where her mind was. "It's all a bit weird, isn't it?"

The corner of Stella's mouth turned down as she gave Michael a slight nod. She wasn't sure how _it_ was or how she felt. Losing Michael had done a number on her. She'd tried to block him out of her mind completely and when that didn't work she resorted to drinking. It'd been like walking on egg shells in her own mind: afraid each memory of Michael would see her completely shatter. But as the weeks went on, she'd gotten better.

Every day there'd be a moment when Stella would glance to the locker beside hers, and although it didn't have a name tag anymore, it would always be Michael's. It'd been personalized with his Rip Curl stickers and a 'Josh is a cool guy' post-it note – courtesy of Josh. They'd kept the locker vacant, even when Constable Deakin Maine joined the squad to fill the 6th spot after Charlie left. It would _always_ be Michael's, especially if Stella had anything to say about it.

Michael stretched his arm over the top of the couch and let his hand find Stella's arm. He inclined his head to match hers and furrowed his brows. "Hey," he spoke softly, as his fingers grazed across her skin.

Stella quickly wiped away the tear that had fallen down her cheek. She hadn't noticed how quiet she'd gotten or that she'd started to cry. She let Michael's hand into hers as his fingers climbed up her wrist. His fingers wrapped into her palm and his own covered her knuckles.

Michael brushed his thumb over Stella's fingers and tugged lightly on her hand. "I really missed you, Stell…"

Stella could only nod in response; feeling the sting of more tears forming under her eyelids. She pursed her lips and nodded again. She felt Michael pull on her arm and knew what he was saying to her. Stella shifted her position on the couch and fell against Michael's chest. His arm wrapped itself around her shoulders and held her, while his other hand found hers in her lap.

Stella took a few deep breaths and held onto Michael's hand like it was all she had. "Don't leave again," she said quietly.

Michael tightened his grip slightly on Stella and rested his cheek against her head. "I won't."

* * *

 _October 27_ _th_ _, 2011_

" _Michael, Michael!" The man leaned over Michael's hospital bed where a disorientated and frightened Michael had started to wake up. The man, wearing a long sleeve blue and white striped shirt tucked into black suit pants, held Michael's shoulders and occasionally rubbed his upper arm soothingly. "I need you to relax for me, mate."_

 _Michael had woken up a minute ago and had begun to choke on the ventilation tube down his throat. His mother had pressed the panic button on the wall above Michael's head while his father ran out into the hall and called for help. Two nearby nurses had quickly run into the room with the well-dressed man in tow. Once the tube was removed, the man began to shine a light across Michael's eyes; holding his eyelids up gently with each individual examination. But the more Michael became consciously aware, the more he panicked. The man had quickly put his torch away and focused solely on calming Michael down._

" _You're OK, you're in the hospital," the man informed, calmly. "Take a few deep breaths for me, mate, deep breaths, alright?"_

 _It took a few moments and more coaching, but soon Michael stopped frantically searching for anything he could see and focused his sight purely on the man above him. He had a dark complexion, dark hair, and a soft shadow of stubble framing his jaw. Michael obeyed the instructions as best he could and forced himself to take one deep breath after the other._

 _The man rubbed Michael's upper arm while the nurses worked around him. "That's it, good job," the man congratulated. "Deep breaths," he said again. When Michael had settled enough, the man straightened himself up but kept a soothing hand on Michael's arm. "You're at St. Vincent's hospital in the Sydney CBD. You were transferred to us two weeks ago," he explained. "I'm Elias, I'm your doctor. I'll be handling your recovery, ok?"_

 _Elias looked behind him where one of the nurses was holding a cup of water. He retrieved the cup from her and helped Michael lift his head enough to take a sip. Michael welcomed the feeling of the cold water falling down his throat; like it was the first water he'd tasted after a walk through the desert. He took another sip, then Elias put the cup on the bedside table._

" _Alright, now, I'm just going to ask you a couple simple questions. If you can't think of the answer, that's fine, just tell me you don't know, ok?" Michael nodded. "Can you tell me your full name?"_

 _Michael swallowed then cleared his throat. "Michael Richard Sandrelli."_

" _Can you tell me how old you are?"_

" _27."_

" _Do you know your date of birth?"_

" _August 28, 1984."_

" _Can you tell me your parent's names?"_

 _Michael took a breath. "Anthony and Gianna Sandrelli."_

 _Elias retrieved the torch from his shirt pocket and gently examined Michael's eyes again. When he was satisfied he put the torch away for a final time and straightened up again. "Good, you're doing really well, Michael. I want to ask you one more question and again if you don't know just tell me you don't know, ok?" Michael nodded again. "What is the last thing you remember?"_

 _Michael considered the question. He searched his mind for the nearest memory but felt like there was a dark cover over his mind preventing him from remembering anything. It took a few moments, but finally the cover lifted._

" _Um," he started; focusing the memory in his mind. "I remember waiting on the front step of a house, and a woman walking up the driveway," he replays the moment in his mind. He could recall the feeling of seeing the woman turn into the driveway and walk towards him. She'd thrown her arms out beside her then dropped her bag on the ground as she sat beside him. He couldn't remember what they'd talked about, but he remembered pulling her against his chest and holding her._

" _Who is the woman?"_

 _Michael concentrated. He felt the answer should have been simple. He knew this woman, he liked this woman, this woman felt like a big part of his life, but he couldn't think of her name. He looked at Elias and shook his head._

 _Elias nodded. "Okay, that's fine. Everything will start to come back to you over the next few weeks. Don't try and force it, just let it flow back naturally, ok?" He nodded reassuringly at Michael. "I'm really happy with these results today. Given the extent of your trauma I wasn't expecting to get any cohesive response for a while so you've already proved me wrong. We're off to a good start." He rubbed Michael's arm again. "Your parents are just behind me so I'm going to duck out and give you guys some time. I'll be back in a little bit to discuss the months ahead of us, ok?"_

" _Hey, Elias?" Michael called out before Elias had left the room completely._

 _Elias turned back around and took a couple casual steps towards Michael. "You remembered my name. That's another tick." He smiled at Michael's parents: who had returned to their positions beside his bed._

" _What happened to me?"_


	3. Chapter 3

**III**

 _A week ago._

 _Michael sat opposite a brunette, in a high pony tail, holding a hand of cards delicately. He watched as the woman carefully examined her cards and decided on one to place in line with two already on the table between them. Michael whistled at her choice and shook his head. She'd placed an Ace of Clubs in the lie up beside another Ace of Clubs, a 3 of Spade, and a 10 of Hearts._

 _"Katelyn, Katelyn, Katelyn…" Michael retrieved an 8 of Clubs from his hand and slipped it between the 3 and 10. "One Pair," he declared; and dropped his wrists on the table._

 _Katelyn examined the line then dropped her shoulders. "Shit!"_

 _Michael grinned as he scooped the cards up. He mixed them into his own hand and shuffled them into the main deck to his left. Katelyn surrendered her cards for Michael to include in the shuffle._

 _"I really thought I had you that time," Katelyn said, and watched Michael shuffle the deck._

 _Michael chuckled. "How about we play something you're actually good at?"_

 _Katelyn bowed her head and chuckled, then nodded. "Slap."_

 _Michael grinned and begun dividing the deck equally between them: flicking Katelyn every first card and himself every second. He glanced around the room and saw the familiar faces of other in-house patients whom he shared the living quarters with. There weren't many of them, maybe 20, and every few months someone would leave and a new face would replace them. Katelyn had arrived three months ago. She was the newest addition to the ward._

 _The ward looked like any other hospital ward… if you took out the sick people and doctors. There was a lobby with tables and chairs, a lounge area complete with a flat screen TV, a collection of bookshelves filled with hardcovers donated from local libraries. Two wings broke away from the lobby from either side of the nurse's station, and lead to private rooms for each of the occupants._

 _"So, are you a prisoner here, too?" Michael asked as he dealt the last of the deck._

 _Katelyn tapped her cards against the table to straighten them, but stopped to look at Michael. She smiled. "You too?" Michael stretched his lips and flicked his eyebrows. "I feel like I've been sent to the nut house."_

 _"Yeah," Michael agreed with an amused chuckle. He spread his cards as neatly as he could in one hand and prepared to play an intense game of Slap. "What're they keeping you for?"_

 _Katelyn considered her first card and plucked one from her hand and placed on the table in front of them. "Ex-boyfriend's mates want to kill me." She gestured to the left side of her torso. "Already tried once."_

 _Michael considered his first card. "That's a bit harsh," he said and dropped a card on top of Katelyn's._

 _"Pro tip?" Katelyn glanced at him. "Don't run to the cops when you realise your seemingly perfect boyfriend is actually a spazzed out homicidal drug dealer." She picked her next card. "What about you?"_

 _Michael shook his head and added another card to the pile. "I've never dated a drug dealer."_

 _"No!" Katelyn laughed and slapped Michael's arm with the back of her hand. "I mean: why are they keeping you here?"_

 _Michael laughed and shifted in his chair. "I know what you meant."_

 _"So?"_

 _He shrugged. "I don't know."_

 _Katelyn titled her head to the side. "What do you mean you don't know?" She asked, sceptically._

 _Michael shook his head. "I don't," he confessed. "I've been asking since I got here but no one's letting up." He shrugged and gestured for Katelyn to add another card._

 _"Maybe someone's gunning for you," Katelyn offered._

 _Katelyn added another card and quickly slapped her hand down on top of the pile when she noticed the match. She collected the cards and tapped them into a neat pile to place beside her._

 _"Ok, this officially has my curiosity," she rested her wrists on the table. "What do you know?"_

 _Michael was still chuckling from Katelyn's triumph. His laughter faded and he shrugged. "I took a beating, and I was shot…" Michael gestured from his chest to his forehead. "Here and here."_

 _Katelyn stared at him curiously. "Someone tried to kill you," she stated. "Why would someone try to kill you?"_

 _Michael shrugged like it hadn't been a question he'd been trying to figure out since the moment he woke up. "I don't know. I don't remember." He shook his head. "There's a whole week of my life missing. It's like I remember being there but I just can't see it, if that makes sense?"_

 _Katelyn nodded; intrigued. "Yeah, I get what you're saying."_

 _Michael added a new card to the table to start a new game. "It's like I have my back turned to the memory or something, but no matter how hard I try I can't turn around and see it. It's frustrating." He took a moment to spread his cards out in his hand. "Because I know if I could see the memory then I could answer all the questions I have. You know?"_

 _Katelyn fixed her cards in her hand. "Well, you did get shot in the head. It's amazing you're even still a regular functioning human being." Katelyn placed a card on top of Michael's. "Maybe it's a blessing in disguise, though. I mean, you got beaten up and shot. Who wants to remember that anyway?"_

 _Michael considered and added a new card. The game continued on for another hour, with Katelyn winning most rounds. They only parted when Katelyn got notified of a phone call from her parents. Michael packed up his deck of cards and headed back to his room._

 _"Michael!"_

 _Michael had just stepped out of his room and was headed to the lobby when the familiar voice caught his attention. He turned around to see Elias, his trauma doctor, walking up the wing, dressed in a familiar blue dress shirt ducked into grey slacks._

 _"Hey, Elias, what's up?"_

 _Elias came to a stop a few feet from Michael and pointed to the ward entry behind him._

 _"Can you come with me? There's someone here to see you," he informed._

 _Michael nodded and let Elias lead him out of the ward. They descended the stair case to the first floor, which was mostly occupied by reception and office spaces. To the left of the staircase was a hallway where Michael immediately noticed two uniformed police standing against a wall. Elias led Michael towards them and it soon became clear the officers were guarding a door. Elias stopped outside the door and looked to Michael like he wanted to warn him about something, but decided not to._

 _When Elias opened the door Michael saw a tall man, initially standing with his back to them. He'd quickly turned around when he heard the door open and Michael instantly noticed the man was another officer. Though he wore parade uniform unlike the patrol uniform the guards wore, complete with the white gloves and held his dress cap against his lap. Michael's first instincts were to look at the man's epaulettes and determine his rank. When he did, Michael swiftly straightened his posture and debating saluting. The man in front of him was the Deputy Commissioner._

 _"At ease, Senior Constable Sandrelli," the Deputy Commissioner dismissed, "this is an informal setting." Michael nodded. "I'm Deputy Commissioner Collins of the News South Wales police force. Take a seat," Collins gestured to the table that stood between them. "We have something to discuss."_

 _Michael obeyed and sat at the table directly adjacent to Collins. Elias took a seat to Michael's left and for a moment Michael wondered why he'd been allowed to stay. Collins reached for a cream coloured folder that rested on the table to his right, and retrieved portrait mug shots. He lined the three mug shots in front of Michael._

 _"I'm here today to shed light on a question I know you've been wanting answers to," Collins tapped the table above the photos. "Do you recognize these men?"_

 _Michael took a moment to look from photo to photo. A photo of Doug Rainey sat in the middle with Cole to the right and Liam to the left. He nodded and looked up. "The Rainey family. They had a cocaine business in Melbourne."_

 _"What was your relationship with them?"_

 _"I was sent undercover with an operative from drug-squad. Our mission was to lure the Rainey's into a high priority deal and execute arrests," Michael reported; feeling himself slip into the persona of a police officer again._

 _Collins nodded. "Didn't go down that smoothly, though, did it?" He retrieved another mug shot from the folder and laid it on top of Cole's. "This is Yuri Gringko. He's Russian Mafia. He went into partnership with Doug Rainey a month before you and Sergeant Soltoss were put under. But he got greedy, he wanted to take Melbourne away from the Rainey's but Doug wouldn't give it up." Collins retrieved another mug shot and placed it on top of Doug's. "Do you recognize this man?"_

 _Michael leaned forward to get a look at the new face. The man was bald, blue eyed, fair skinned, and—Michael instantly sat up. He suddenly saw the face in his memory: standing in front of him with a gun rising to his aim. Michael could feel his heart beginning to race but kept himself under control. He could suddenly see a fragment of a memory he'd believed to have turned his back on. Michael remembered sitting on the back of a boat. He could hear Liam's voice behind him but couldn't see him. Something had caught Michael's attention, a shadow or the sound of approaching footsteps, he'd started to look up which was when he saw two men standing on the pier in front of the boat and suddenly both men raised a gun. Michael had been watching the man who stood directly in front of him, the man whose face he now saw in mug shot photo, and remembered being shocked to see the gun pointed directly at him._

 _"He shot me," Michael recalled, despairingly; forcing his mind away from the memory._

 _"Yuri abducted Liam to intimidate Doug into giving up his turf," Collins reported, "It's unclear if your cover had been blown at the time of the shooting but unfortunately you got caught in the middle of a turf war either way."_

 _This was news to Michael. He hadn't known about the turf war or Liam's abduction. He nodded and glanced to Elias, who wore an expression of sympathy directed at Michael._

 _"You were transferred to Sydney because, at the time, Melbourne was a very unsafe place for you to be in," Collins continued. "Yuri Gringko, unfortunately, had a reputation for not letting a target survive and since he was still at large at the time there were real concerns for your safety. So, to avoid another attempt on your life, you were brought here…" Collins hesitated. "And your death was made public."_

 _Michael scrunched his face at the information and shifted in his seat. "Sorry, my what?"_

 _Collins nodded once, he'd expected this reaction. "It's called a Miller Order," he informed. "It's when the police force stages a person's death in order to protect them. It's what your Commissioner did to you. It's an extreme case of witness protection. You were kept in Sydney to recover while a marathon of court hearings and trials took place over 23 months in Melbourne." Collins rested his hands on top of each other over the folder. "Now that those involved with the Rainey drug ring and Russian Mafia have been prosecuted and sentenced to maximum prison time... I'm here to tell you it's safe for you to return home."_

 _Michael fell back in his seat. Everything had started to make sense; why he wasn't allowed to leave the premises or why he hadn't been allowed to contact anyone._

 _"Who knows I'm alive?"_

 _Collins collected the photos from the table and slipped them back into his folder. He considered the answer. "In Melbourne: your family and the Commissioner's office."_

 _Michael pursed his lips and shook his head. "So, my team don't… Do they?"_

 _"Sandrelli, understand that for the Miller Order to be successful it's crucial a list of those involved is kept as short as humanly possible," he said matter-of-factly. "Because of that, it's a good bet your team have no idea this happened."_

 _Michael nodded, he was in no position to challenge a superior officer on moral ethics. The meeting adjourned some time later. Collins didn't have more information for Michael but was able to answer questions Michael had about returning to Melbourne and the status of the Rainey family and the man who shot him._

 _"Did you know about his?" Michael asked Elias as they climbed the staircase back to the second floor._

 _Elias shrugged, "I didn't know details but I knew you being transferred to us was classified information."_

 _Michael shook his head and pulled the glass door open that lead into his wing. "How would you fake someone's death, though? I mean, I understand why they did it but I know my team," he glanced back at Elias and waved his hands. "They would've been at the hospital every chance they got." Michael sighed and stepped into his room where he came to a stop at the foot of his bed in the centre of the room. "Especially Stella."_

 _Elias considered and put his hands on his hips. "Well, you would've been in an induced coma – especially with the head wound." He shook his head and thought hard. "Your doctor probably administered you with rocuronium bromide." Michael looked at him and Elias quickly waved his hand at the realisation. "It's a neuromuscular blocker and skeletal muscular relaxant. It's a drug we administer to patients in preparation for surgery, usually administered with general anaesthesia. And since you were already in a coma, the administration of rocuronium would've mimicked paralysis. Then all they had to do was reprogram the hearts monitors and…" he shrugged and shook his head._

 _"So you're saying it's possible?" Michael questioned._

 _Elias nodded. "It's risky, but, yeah… It's easily done."_

 _Michael exhaled. "That's comforting."_

 _He turned his back to Elias and headed for the walk-in wardrobe to the back of his room. He retrieved a black leather duffle bag that his mother had brought up with her; containing a small wardrobe and personal hygiene items. Michael placed the bag on the end of his bed and returned to the wardrobe to start packing his belongings._

 _"What are you doing?" Elias asked, though he could've guessed._

 _Michael rolled each item of clothing against his body and packed them tightly against each other inside the bag. "I can leave, right?" Elias nodded. "So, I'm leaving. I'm going home."_

 _Elias nodded; knowing he's do the same thing In Michael's position. He left Michael to pack, saying he'd drive Michael to the airport and see him off. Michael's bag was almost completely packed. He looked around the room a final time to determine if anything else was important enough to him to bring back to Melbourne. He turned to the door and saw Katelyn leaning against the frame with her arms folded._

 _"You've been freed," she said enthusiastically. "I guess that means you finally got your answers."_

 _Michael smiled at her and lifted the bags strap onto his shoulder. He nodded and stood in the doorway opposite her. They gazed at each other for a moment, until Katelyn took a deep breath and straightened her posture._

 _"Where're you going?"_

 _"Home," Michael answered softly. "Melbourne."_

 _Katelyn nodded absentmindedly. Truthfully, she was disappointed. "Right. You're leaving me here by myself, then."_

 _Michael tapped the side of his bag and chuckled. He slipped his tapping hand into one of the bags unzipped pockets and retrieved his deck of playing cards held together by a double wrapped elastic band. He offered the deck to Katelyn. "Practise. And when they free you, come find me."_

 _Katelyn smiled and accepted the deck. She played with it in her hands; pressing her thumbs against the top card and bending the deck. "I'll kick your arse," she teased; returning her attention to Michael._

 _Michael smiled broadly. "Unlikely."_

 _Katelyn tapped the deck against her hand then arched her back to allow her hands to slip through and press against the door frame behind her. "So, how will I find you?"_

 _Michael considered. He glanced out to the hall then back to Katelyn. "There's a police base in Yarraville, west Melbourne. It's Tactical Response." Katelyn nodded; curiously. "Ask for Senior Constable Michael Sandrelli."_

 _Katelyn's eyes widened and her bottom jaw dropped in surprise. "I've got to be honest, I didn't pick you for a cop."_

 _Michael laughed and adjusted his positioned against the door frame. It was then that Elias appeared in the hallway and waved to Michael. Michael nodded back and scooted himself into the hallway. "I gotta go." He stepped forward and pulled Katelyn into a hug. When they parted, he rubbed her shoulder and smiled again. "Take care of yourself."_

 _Katelyn nodded and stepped into the hallway with Michael; bouncing her weight onto her back leg. "You too."_

 _Michael gently squeezed Katelyn's shoulder and held onto her until the steps he'd taken towards Elias created too much space between them. He gave Katelyn a final grin before falling into step with Elias and leaving the in-patient ward for the last time._


	4. Chapter 4

**V**

"I'll just be a sec," Michael told Josh as they pulled up to the curb outside his parent's house.

Josh nodded an OK at Michael and watched as he climbed out of the passenger seat and headed up the driveway. The last time Josh had been to the house was for Michael's wake. It'd been a dark day, despite the perfect spring weather, but today the house glowed as the morning sun showered over it.

Michael fetched the spare key from the family's secret hiding spot – under a pot plant suspended from the roof of the entryway. As Michael unlocked the front door and stepped into his childhood home, he was content to find it hadn't changed from memory. Cameo-white painted walls lined the entryway and directed Michael to the kitchen and dining area; while passing the master bedroom, a study area, and access to the garage. Directly ahead of his view was a staircase that lead to the second level extension, a corner of floor to ceiling windows neighboring either side of double sliding doors that led to the backyard, and a break off hallway to the left which led to more bedrooms and bathrooms.

As Michael passed the kitchen bench on his right, he suddenly heard a gasp and hand slap on the marble bench. He jumped and quickly turned to see his mother standing at the opposite end of the bench with a tea-towel clutched against her chest in a fist and her other hand supporting her on the marble.

"You almost gave me a heart attack," she breathed as she recomposed herself. "I thought you were an intruder!"

Michael glanced back down the hall then to his mother. He decided not to question her lack of adequate response had he'd actually been an intruder. Instead, he settled for an apology. "Sorry, I didn't think you'd be home."

Gianna set the tea-towel on the bench in front of her and threw a hand up towards Michael. "Where have you been?" She demanded. "I called the hospital and they said you left."

Michael shrugged and stood by the bench; clasping his palms on the edge of the marble. "They told me I could leave, so I did."

"So, what, you just pack up your things and get on the next plane out? You don't tell anyone?" Michael shrugged again and nodded. "Why?"

Michael stared at his mother for a moment. "Because I found out what happened after I got shot, and why I've been hiding out in Sydney for the last two years," he said acerbically.

There was a brief moment of awkward silence. Tension filled the room. The sour tone of Michael's words had sent shivers down Gianna's spine. She retrieved the tea-towel and folded it until it was a square made up of four layers.

Gianna took a breath. "They finally told you," she exhaled.

"Yeah," Michael nodded, "yeah the News South Wales Deputy Commissioner debriefed me. He said it was safe for me to come back to Melbourne so," he shrugged.

Gianna nodded. She took another deep breath and looked to Michael. "How long have you been back?"

"A few days," Michael informed, and walked around the outside of the bench to lean against the counter. "I've been staying with Stell."

Gianna dropped her shoulders and waved her hand. "And you didn't think I had a right to know?"

"You didn't think my team had a right to know I was alive?" Michael shot back without missing a beat. He'd spoken calmly, but the anger behind the question radiated.

"Don't start with me, Michael," Gianna warned.

"Why did you lie to them?"

"We didn't have a choice," she explained; tapping her palms against the edge of the marble bench with each word.

"Yeah, you did," Michael said candidly. "You always have a choice"

"Then maybe we chose not to tell them."

Michael hunched forward and turned his palms up. "Why!?" He begged.

"Because I had to!" Gianna snapped. She slapped her hand on the marble and stared Michael down. "Do you think I liked lying to them?" She asked firmly, "to your family, to your friends, to anyone? I have never felt guiltier in my life."

Michael sighed and dropped his wrists on the counter.

"Especially Stella," Gianna exhaled and pressed her hand against her chest. "She was so… broken." She shook her head absently at the memory. "The day of the wake she sat in your room and cried." She took a deep breath now. "And I sat with her and I wanted to tell her you were ok," her voice trembled, "that you'd survived. But every time I decided to tell someone it wasn't real, your bosses' voice came into my head and I started to picture the horrible things he said could happen if people knew, and I just…"

Michael extended his arm across the counter to offer comfort to his mother. Her voice had broken and he could see she'd begun fighting tears.

Gianna shook her head and looked down; taking a moment to recompose herself before looking back to Michael. She held his hand tightly in hers. "I told myself it wasn't forever," she continued. "That when it was safe for you to return you would and I could handle being hated for keeping such a secret, just as long as it meant you were alright," she shook his hand over the counter reassuringly.

He nodded and gazed at their hands locked together. He was still angry, but his emotions had subsided for the moment after seeing how the choices his mother had to make had affected her. He knew he could put himself in her shoes and come to the conclusion that he'd make the same choices had the situation been reversed, or had it been his child whose life was presumably in danger.

Michael reflected on his mother's words. He imagined Stella in his bedroom but couldn't hold the image long – afraid it would bring him to tears.

"Hang on," Michael said and suddenly straightened his posture. "You said my bosses' voice came into your head?" He tried to remember the wording exactly. "Which boss?"

"Um," Gianna exhaled and glanced upward as she tried to recall the name. "He was the leader of your team but it wasn't Lawson, it was a different man."

"Charlie?" Michael offered with the feeling of his heart suddenly racing in his chest.

Gianna gave a shy smile and nodded. She unraveled the tea-towel and moved across to the oven behind her. "Charlie Lewis," she said slowly, and shook her head as she spread the tea-towel over the oven door handle. "He was good to us," she told Michael as she turned back around. "Your father and I weren't able to fly to Sydney with you, because we had to stay here and mourn you. So Charlie made sure we were kept in the loop with everything: when you were being transported, when you landed, which doctors were looking after you, what room you were in…" she trailed off with a chuckle. "He was good to us," she repeated.

Michael scoffed. He shook his head and ran his tongue harshly against his top teeth.

In Spotswood, Lawson and Christian lead a man in cuffs to a general duties patrol car where two junior constables were standing by to help him into the car.

"You know why I didn't die, coppa?" The intoxicated man asked Christian with a grin reaching from ear to ear; swaggering with each step he took. "Because I'm _Im-mor-tal_!" He said; emphasizing each syllable.

"Ah!" Christian exclaimed sarcastically. "I thought it might have been because you were hit with a non-lethal beanbag shotty but I guess not."

The man laughed and let the officers direct him into the back of the car. "Nah, mate! I'm IM-MOR-TAL!"

When he'd been safely buckled in and the door closed, Lawson and Christian looked at each other and chuckled at the man's antics. They returned to TR where Stella was leaning against the driver's door with her arms folded.

"Never get tired of dealing with Zachary," Christian told Stella.

Stella chuckled and watched Zachary repeat 'I'm immortal' from the backseat. He'd been looking at her so she waved to him. "Yeah, he's a character."

"He's a nuisance," Lawson chimed in; opening the passenger side door.

"He's entertainment," Christian debated across the roof of the TR. "And speaking of immortality," Christian opened the door to the backseat slid into the car in unison with Lawson and Stella. "How is our resident miracle going?"

Stella scrunched her face and glanced at Christian through the review mirror as she turned the engine on. "Who, Michael?" Christian flicked his brows up and nodded. "He's alright."

"Still crashing at yours?" Lawson asked. Stella nodded and drove away from the scene they'd just responded to. Lawson rested into his seat. "We could always kick the tenant out of the Footscray house if you got sick of him."

Stella shot Lawson a smile then shook her head.

"Lawson, Lawson," Christian cut in, "can you actually imagine Stella getting sick of Michael?"

Lawson laughed.

"Piss off," Stella smiled; glancing at Christian through the review mirror again, who smiled back at her. "He's my best friend and was presumed dead until a week ago. So, no, I'm not going to get sick of him being around anytime soon." She glanced to Lawson and gave an inclined nod, "he _is_ looking for his own place but don't kick out your tenant."

" _Hey Lawson?"_ Leon's voice came over the radio.

Lawson pressed down on his mic. "Yeah, Leon?"

" _Sorry about this, mate, but GD's need another hand with a disorderly. ICE addict off her face in Sunshine North. I'm sending you through the address."_

There was a collection of groans from the car.

"Alright, we're on it."

Back in Williamstown, some time passed before Josh saw Michael leave his house carrying a new duffle bag that looked full. He dropped the bag into the backseat then returned to the passenger side.

"Sorry that took longer than expected," Michael said as he crossed the seat belt over his body. "My mum was home. We sort of got into an argument."

"About what?" Josh asked as he turned the engine back on and pulled into the street.

"Guess," Michael scoffed.

Josh glanced across at Michael and shook his head as he turned his attention back to the road. "Don't get shitty with your mum over this," he stressed.

"She lied, Josh," Michael threw back sharply. "To you, to Stell, to everyone. My whole family _lied_!"

"They're your family," Josh pleaded, calmly. "They're supposed to lie to everyone if it means protecting you." He shook his head, "they're off limits, mate."

Michael fell back into the seat and rested his elbow on the window seal. "I don't mean to sound ungrateful," he said after a moment.

"I don't think you sound ungrateful," Josh assured, "I actually think you're having a normal reaction. You should be pissed, just not at your family. You and I both know if we were in their position we'd have done the same thing."

Michael's fist rested against his head. He glanced at Josh, "you'd lie to everyone in your kids like to protect them?"

"Without blinking."

Michael considered. He knew Josh was right and just like he'd decided to himself earlier, he knew had he been in his mother's shoes he would have done the same thing.

"Yeah," Michael agreed quietly, with a sigh, and rested against the headrest.

Josh glanced at Michael and patted his arm reassuringly. "I heard Kerry offered you a job at the Academy?"

Michael nodded and adjusted his posture. "Yeah," he replied enthusiastically, "teaching recruits."

"You gonna do it?"

"Yeah, well," Michael shrugged and nodded, "it's job, so…"

Josh watched the car in the neighboring lane as he estimated his opportunity to move in behind it. "You thought about coming back to TR?"

Michael watched as Josh moved into the next lane and adjust his speed to fall in line with the traffic. Returning to TR was an internal debate Michael had been having with himself for months, but especially since being reunited with his former team. When he didn't answer, Josh looked to Michael to gauge his reaction.

After a long moment of silence, Michael shrugged. "I'm clear to work, it's just…"

The expression Michael wore was one Josh had truly only seen a handful of times on Michael. Fear. Though he did well to hide it, Josh had been around Michael long enough to notice the tell signs of what Michael was thinking. He feared getting hurt again, that was Josh's conclusion. And he didn't blame him for it. Michael had been through an ordeal Josh had never seen a team member go through before. To be kidnapped, tortured, bargained, beaten, and shot twice all in the space of a few hours was rough. The experience had to have left a mental mark on Michael, one that wasn't going to go away by getting back on the grid. Aside from his injuries, Michael had been shot in the head by an assassin who he'd been ordered to kill him. Josh knew what being a target of a hit felt like, but he'd been lucky to be dealt a shooter with terrible aim. Michael hadn't been that lucky.

"Well, if you decide you want back in, I'll help ya," Josh told. "With Training, convincing Lawson… Whatever. I've got your back."

Michael smiled kindly at him. "Thanks, Josh."

Josh nodded firmly at him; silently reiterating his offer. He then retreated to the sole purpose of driving for a moment. He fidgeted in his seat and tapped his thumbs on the steering wheel. "Speaking of having your back," he started. He quickly glanced Michael and shook his head, "Mate, I owe you an apology."

"Josh…" Michael breathed; figuring he knew where the topic was going.

Josh shook his head again and curled his lips together. "I should've stopped you from getting in Liam's car. I asked to be sent in with you that day because I wanted to protect you… but I didn't stop you from getting in the car."

The car fell silent for a minute as Josh pulled into a new street and against the curb in front of Stella's apartment building.

"Josh, listen to me," Michael said and inclined himself in Josh's direction. "I don't remember much of what happened but I _do_ know what I'm like. You weren't my superior that day so whatever choice I made, the odds were against you talking me out of it." He'd spoken calmly but firm; making sure Josh heard his words clearly. "What happened to me was not your fault."

Josh had been starring at the dashboard in front of him and took a moment before he looked at Michael. He curled his lips again and nodded.

"I mean it, Josh," Michael assured.

"Yeah," Josh nodded. He glanced to the backseat. "So, what are you going to do now?"

Michael glanced to the building beside them, then back to Josh. "Get on with my life." Josh smiled at him and tapped his arm again. Michael smiled back at him. "Thanks…"

"I'll see ya later, mate."

* * *

 _A/N: Thank you for reading! X  
Michael was my favorite character and I was devastated when he was killed. Let he live on in Fan Fiction! _


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